


Oz Hardtime100 Drabbles 121-130

by Severina



Category: Oz (1997)
Genre: Community: hardtime100
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-07
Updated: 2009-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-09 20:01:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/91012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina





	Oz Hardtime100 Drabbles 121-130

**121.  
Title:** Guilty  
**Prompt:** 121 - You Say Yes, I Say No (change a canon Yes to No, or vice versa)  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** September 03, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

"I spoke to my father about looking for Hank Schillinger."

"We already discussed this--"

"He said No."

"Thank fuck," Chris said. "Toby, ya gotta let this go. Vern hates you. He hates me. He's always gonna hate us. Nothing is gonna change that."

"I… don't know if I can. Andy--"

"You feel guilty about Andy? Go to mass, say an act of contrition, hell, talk it out with Said and I'll leave ya alone. Do whatever the fuck you need to do to make peace with it, Toby."

"And if I can't?"

"Then more blood will be on your hands."

 

**122.  
Title:** Tumbling Down  
**Prompt:** 122 - Strange Days  
**Timeframe:** Season Six  
**Written:** September 03, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

For Ryan, the days after Cyril's death are a blur. He sleepwalks between the cafeteria and Em City, floats through bullshit counselling sessions with Sister Pete. He sees flashes of blond hair from the corner of his eye but when he whips his head around, no one is there. He lays on his bunk and thinks he hears Cyril moving restlessly below. In the quad, he hears a murmur behind him and turns instinctively to comfort, but he's alone.

And when he gets back from work and sees Jericho propped up on Cyril's bed, he screams and keeps on screaming.

 

**123.  
Title:** So Close  
**Prompt:** 123 - Scene It (list of 100 prompts, NO WORD LIMIT)  
**Prompt 01:** Lottery Ticket  
**Timeframe:** Season Six  
**Written:** September 03, 2009  
**Word Count:** 203

Tim stares from the newspaper propped on the table to the lottery ticket next to the milk, fork forgotten in his hand. He can't believe it. Once, maybe, someone from Oz could win the jackpot. But twice?

And him?

He could donate some to the prison, he thinks as he dresses in his best smart-casual jacket. Expand Em City. Really make it work.

Jeans or slacks, jeans or slacks? He finally decides on jeans, for the working man look.

He calls in sick to work, barely able to keep the glee from his voice. Nearly stumbles over the weeks worth of recycling stacked near the table, but doesn't give a shit. Then he drives to the lottery claim office in a state of euphoria.

The clerk at the claims office studies his ticket, then hands it back. "I'm sorry, sir," he says, "but this is not a winning ticket."

"What?" Tim splutters. He waves the newspaper angrily. "The winning numbers are listed right here! The ticket is a match!"

The clerk raises a brow, but takes the paper. Glances at it. Then looks up.

"Sir," he says, smiling sadly, "this is last week's paper."

Tim really needs to learn to recycle on a more timely basis.

 

**124.  
Title:** Fishy  
**Prompt:** 124 - Fish  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** September 04, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

Augustus slid the forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth and murmured appreciatively.

Beecher and Keller exchanged looks.

The stale roll crumbled in his hand, but Augustus still ooh-ed over the quality as he took a generous bite.

Rebadow opened his mouth, then closed it again.

When Augustus reached for the fish sticks, O'Reily grabbed his hand. "What," he said, "the fuck?"

"I'm practicing the power of positive thinking," Augustus explained. "If I _believe_ the food tastes good, it will."

"Is it working?" Beecher asked.

Augustus dropped the fish stick with a look of disgust. "Not even a little bit."

 

**125.  
Title:** Hungry  
**Prompt:** 125 - Bite  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** September 04, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

Toby doesn't know how Chris smuggled it in.

The apple is bright and shiny, and when Chris takes a bite the resulting crisp crack of sound seems to reverberate in the pod. Chris turns the apple in his hand, slides his teeth over the tender skin and bites down again, sharply. His tongue pokes out to slurp at the trickling juice.

Chris licks his lips.

And then Toby has Chris pinned to the wall and is devouring those lips.

Chris laughs against his mouth. "Hungry, Beech?"

Toby is thankful when the lights dim. He needs to show Chris how hungry.

 

**126.  
Title:** Wise Advice  
**Prompt:** 126 - Jizz  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** September 04, 2009  
**Word Count:** 116

Edgar Morton likes to help the new fish. He's a generous guy.

"All right," he says, gesturing with a piece of bread. "That's Keller."

The fish sizes him up. "Gangbanger?"

Morton smiles. "Keller's what you'd call 'a conundrum'," he says sagely. "He'll kill ya soon as look at ya, but he's also a fag. At least for this one guy, Beecher."

"Which one's Beecher?"

Morton points him out. "Don't let the meek and mild exterior fool ya. Fucker bit off someone's dick."

The fish's eyes go wide. "Keller's?"

"Nah, I told ya. They're lovey-dovey. But don't mention that to Keller. As a matter of fact, stay away from both of 'em," he advises. "You'll live longer."

 

**127.  
Title:** Rats!  
**Prompt:** 127 - Mini Nightmare on Oz Street (paranormal)  
**Timeframe:** Season Two?  
**Written:** September 04, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

Poet jumped back. "Fuck!"

Ryan peered into the corner. "Shit, it's just a baby rat."

"I don't deal with no vermin, man," Poet muttered. "Ain't working with no vermin."

"Christ," Ryan said. "Get me a fucking frying pan."

A few minutes later, Ryan tracked the skittering rat to one of the storage lockers. He hefted the pan. Eased the door open.

He had a vague impression of many bodies -- large bodies, the size of cats -- and then they were upon him.

The last thing Ryan saw before being overrun was the glint of the light off their shank-sharp yellow teeth.

 

**128.  
Title:** Fishbowl  
**Prompt:** 128 - Glass Houses  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** September 04, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

"You know," Toby mused, "I haven't been alone in three days. In the pod with you, cafeteria's crowded, quad's crowded, gym's crowded, get escorted to Sister Pete's. I'm never alone."

"You gettin' tired of me, Beech?"

"Believe it or not, not everything revolves around you," Toby said dryly. "I'm just saying I'd kill for a little privacy."

Chris arched a brow.

"Not literally," Toby amended.

"Tomorrow, I'll stay out of your hair."

"Chris--"

"Nah, you need a break." Chris tried for nonchalance. "It's cool."

"Chris," Toby said, "if I have to live in a fishbowl, I'm glad it's with you."

 

**129.  
Title:** Tattoo You  
**Prompt:** 129 - Oz Ink  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** September 07, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

"I'm thinking of getting a tattoo."

Chris glanced up from his magazine. Shrugged.

"What do you think?" Toby persisted.

"Whatever." His lips twitched. "What are you going to get? Mickey Mouse? Nah. Tinkerbell."

"No, I was thinking of something a little more masculine. Like a _butterfly_," Toby said pointedly.

"Fuck you," Chris drawled. "I was a kid."

"Aaaand…"

"And I let a very hot chick named Ariadne practice on me. And then I fucked her into next week."

Toby wrinkled his nose. "Ariadne."

"Her parents were hippies."

"Hmm. What'd she charge you?"

"Beech, after that fuck, I shoulda charged her."

 

**130.  
Title:** Movie Night  
**Prompt:** 130 - Amnesty 2008  
(any older prompt. I chose "Double Down" - write a 200 word drabble)  
**Timeframe:** Season Four  
**Written:** September 07, 2009  
**Word Count:** 200

"What'd ya know. McManus actually had a good idea for a change."

Toby flopped down on the chair, eager for lights out, and watched Chris wash up. "What did you think of the movie?"

"Liked it," Chris said. "The con pretending to turn coward for those kids. That's classic."

Toby coughed.

Chris narrowed his eyes. "You got somethin' to say, Beecher?"

"Just that Cagney clearly turned yellow. He's a hardened criminal, for fucks sake. Do you think any of the fucks in here would give a shit about a bunch of kids? Hoyt, for example? Maybe Vern?"

"You're pissing me off," Chris said quietly.

Toby huffed out a laugh. "Why? Because I have a differing opinion about a 65 year old movie than you do?"

Chris carefully placed his toothbrush on the shelf. Took a breath. "Just… stop fucking with Cagney."

"I'm _not_! Chris," Toby tried reasonably, "I'm sure James Cagney was a lovely man, but this particular character--"

Chris turned away from the mirror. "Fucking drop it, Beech."

Toby met Chris's eyes. Held up his hands. "Okay. Fine."

 

Some time later, in their separate bunks after lights out, Chris muttered, "Movie night was a stupid fucking idea."

Toby sighed. "Amen."


End file.
